Today I am 26 summers old.
I'm not going to celebrate by claiming depression, being dragged to dinner and a bar, and be hungover and miserable tomorrow. I'm also not spending it with friends. I'm a bit too hermitty to enjoy that life.
Instead, today I baked myself some brownies, grabbed some fresh herbs for homemade mexican dinner tonight, and watched Harry Potter with Olivia.
I sipped tea, while reflecting on my year and all the changes I've made and who I'm becoming and how that's affecting my world and those in it. Twenty-five was good to me. I learned to share all of me with my family, I learned to let go of what has already passed. I learned that I love the whisper of snow in January, the stillness of -40 F. I love the remarkable green that is seemingly overnight, breathed into the woods in the spring. I love the adrenaline rush of adventure in breath-taking places mere miles from my do or.
I love being a mom. I mean I really thought I did at first but it just gets better. I'm totally getting laugh lines and forehead wrinkles and I'm sure some gray hair will work its way in eventually but I mean it when I say that I never knew happiness or true joy or love before this year. This was the year where I really learned what I wanted, from myself and from life.
And I have it all in my arms every night.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
The Week of Broken Things
That would be this week.
The keyboard broke in a hail storm of flying keys as the dogs tripped over the cord on the floor and ripped it from it's functional resting place. I may or may not have punched it once previously in frustration....
Shortly after, in some freak haunting experience, the monitor fell over onto it's face (all on it's own!) and the screen broke. Trying to read, search, or even navigate files has been ridiculous.
My phone, which has been half broken since it became mine, broken screen and wonky processor and all, finally crossed over to the other-side today. Dropped it in the hen house while collecting eggs and it never turned on again.
I discovered on Tuesday, at the dentist, that I'm grinding my teeth out of my head and my teeth are going to break down if I don't start sleeping with a guard to protect my chompers. Or I can get Braces, at almost-twenty-six and look silly for a year and pay thousands of dollars that I don't actually have.
It's been a fun week.
The keyboard broke in a hail storm of flying keys as the dogs tripped over the cord on the floor and ripped it from it's functional resting place. I may or may not have punched it once previously in frustration....
Shortly after, in some freak haunting experience, the monitor fell over onto it's face (all on it's own!) and the screen broke. Trying to read, search, or even navigate files has been ridiculous.
My phone, which has been half broken since it became mine, broken screen and wonky processor and all, finally crossed over to the other-side today. Dropped it in the hen house while collecting eggs and it never turned on again.
I discovered on Tuesday, at the dentist, that I'm grinding my teeth out of my head and my teeth are going to break down if I don't start sleeping with a guard to protect my chompers. Or I can get Braces, at almost-twenty-six and look silly for a year and pay thousands of dollars that I don't actually have.
It's been a fun week.
Friday, July 11, 2014
The Migration of Teeth
Oh Misery...
I was told, years ago, by numerous dentists, that I would never have to experience the agony of wisdom teeth and their incessant migration.
Those lying dirtbags, how I wish I could clobber them right about now.
I'm in my mid-twenties, broke, uninsured, and these horrible evolutionary mistakes called "Wisdom Teeth," are making me feel like my face desires strongly to explode.
I am aware that I'm not the only one who experiences this nauseating degree of pain, but damnit THIS BLOWS.
I am generally against pain meds, I don't even consume tylenol. But if I felt like tylenol could touch this pain, it mighhhhht not be hard to get me to take some right now. Currently I'm huffing peppermint oil to ward off the nausea, and stuffing cloves in my cheeks in the hopes of some numbing action. So far the peppermint is helping but I still would rather be hit by a bus than experience my skull being pried apart by teeth I wasn't supposed to get anyway.
I am the grumpiest grumpy bear.
I was told, years ago, by numerous dentists, that I would never have to experience the agony of wisdom teeth and their incessant migration.
Those lying dirtbags, how I wish I could clobber them right about now.
I'm in my mid-twenties, broke, uninsured, and these horrible evolutionary mistakes called "Wisdom Teeth," are making me feel like my face desires strongly to explode.
I am aware that I'm not the only one who experiences this nauseating degree of pain, but damnit THIS BLOWS.
I am generally against pain meds, I don't even consume tylenol. But if I felt like tylenol could touch this pain, it mighhhhht not be hard to get me to take some right now. Currently I'm huffing peppermint oil to ward off the nausea, and stuffing cloves in my cheeks in the hopes of some numbing action. So far the peppermint is helping but I still would rather be hit by a bus than experience my skull being pried apart by teeth I wasn't supposed to get anyway.
I am the grumpiest grumpy bear.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Fun Facts about Raising your own Livestock
Mostly these fun facts are not, really truly, fun. In fact a lot of them are gross. Don't get me wrong, I love farming. I love raising my own animals for food, and I love sustainable farming practices that allow me to also feed my neighbors, friends, or even just inspire other people to try new things that take us back to our roots.
Fact of the matter is- we all started as farmers somewhere, be it our great great great great great great grandmother's garden, or our grandpappy's fantastic dairy cows, the truth is that no matter where your family hails from, somebody in your family was a farmer. And I'm willing to bet that they loved it, there was a reason they carried on with it, even if it was necessity- you don't run a successful garden, dairy, or any kind of farm without a little love. Even if that love means being covered in mud and shit 24 hours a day.
Yep. Shit.
Fun Fact number 1:
If you raise livestock, chances are you will spend your days cleaning shit, eating shit, smelling like shit, being covered in shit, and probably looking like shit. Yeah, I said eating shit. I know right, totally disgusting. But I'd be lying if I told you that anytime I clean the Chicken waterer, feeder, or muck out the hen house that I don't end up with a little poop on or around my mouth. Either because the water splashes back, I inevitably inhale straw (and poop) when mucking out the hen house, or because one of those feathered jerks flies up in my face and kicks that nasty mess up at me, as if to say "HEY SLACKER- next time come around sooner..." I look like shit most days because, well, I'm working. With animals that have no idea how to poop in one respective place, but instead crap all over the place. So, shit, will become a part of your daily life. Seriously, endless pooping.
Number 2:
Trying to have nice nails is a waste of time. I've tried. Even in the winter months, I am incapable of having pretty hands or nails. I've exchanged the fake nails and pretty paint job for calloused hands, short finger nails, and muddied cracked fingers that never seem to get clean no matter how much I scrub. Sometimes you just gotta shove that girly crap aside and take care of important things. Like chicken wrangling, turning the compost, cleaning out the barn, planting crops, butchering, and lets not forget if any of the larger animals go into labor- you might just have to have your arm in the uterus of a farm animal. I am not spending 60 bucks on a manicure just to break a nail delivering a baby goat. No bueno mi amigo.
Number 3:
Not everyone approves of your farm life. This one was weird for me to grasp. I grew up in various small towns all across the country, surrounded by farmers of all sorts and even helping to run a few of them, as a child I was raised with the understanding that farmers are some of the hardest working, poorest people in the world- and they're the ones who FEED EVERYONE- and that they deserve un-quantifiable amounts of respect. As an urban farmer, I don't operate a full farm, I don't raise cows, or sheep, or pigs, or llamas. I garden my ass off and I raise chickens for my freezer and a few friends/neighbors freezers. This is largely because we don't own our own land, and also because those animals require more space than we have readily available. However, you better bet your sweet ass I still work my tail off day in and day out to make sure that those animals are taken care of and are content clean and happy before they meet their end. You also better be aware that The second the sun comes back after a long dark winter, I'm starting seeds inside, raising my electric bill about $80 plus a month from the grow lights so that my garden has as much of a headstart as possible due to our short growing season. I have friends who think I'm crazy. Some of my neighbors despise me because chickens smell, and are noisy, even my siblings, who were also in those small po-dunk towns surrounded by cows- don't understand why I do what I do. It's okay. I'll take the smell of chicken poop over city garbage any day.
Not to mention, anyone who thinks that because I raise my chickens primarily for meat thinks I'm a monster, no better than a murderer on death row. I assure you, my chickens are free range, have nice soft straw in a pretty badass coop with tons of gmo free and organic food and clean water and are so so so spoiled, especially compared to factory farms that supply your grocery store with diseased meat for you to feed your family.
Number 4:
Sometimes it just sucks. There are various reasons why farming can royally suck sometimes. This year, for example, has been one of the weirdest, rainiest summers ever. Half my crops either died or stunted or have yet to bounce back. It's already July- that means that if it's not green and huge and happy by now, it's not going to be. Alaska's average growing season is from June until August. I have 90 days of the year to produce as much food as I can for my family and the people who purchase from us. Compared to the lower 48 states, thats about 60 days LESS. So this year, no one is getting cabbage, broccoli, basil, cucumbers, zucchini, tomatoes, onions, green beans, or lettuce. It actually rained so much that my lettuce DROWNED. I was unaware that lettuce could drown, I mean, it's one of the most water resilient plants out there. So this year all I've got offer in the way of fresh produce are beets, carrots, and snap peas.
We decided we were gonna try and raise pheasants this year along with the chickens, add some variety to the freezer for the winter months. Turns out, the asshole chickens we picked up this year, didn't like the pheasants. Over a span of 3 weeks, we lost every single pheasant we had to the murderous bitches in the hen house. Thats like watching someone light your wallet with all your hard earned and saved cash in it on fire and laughing mercilessly at you.
Sometimes, being a farmer, urban, backwoods, or whatever... just sucks.
Number 5:
Vacation? What the hell is that?
Yep. Vacation plans mean squat when you're a farmer. As in, you just plain ol' don't get one. Truth be told I have wanted many vacations, but fate has a way of destroying a farmers vacation plans faster than a hurricane destroys a town. I can't tell you how many times we've just gone away for a night or two on a weekend only to come home to a coop of dead birds, drowned or burnt up garden, or to find that every. single. chicken. has escaped and some of the neighbors dogs have found new chew toys.
If there are chickens- we stay home. If there is a garden- we stay home. If there is a snow storm, or expected 90 degree days (yes, they happen here too, it's called global warming.) we stay home. We are tired. and dirty. and usually somewhat smelly. all year. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Number 6:
You never have to have to talk about "The Birds and the Bees," with your children.
This is true. And convenient. My 3 year old already understands where baby chicks come from, because our rooster is the biggest horn dog, and most animals don't give a damn if you watch them goin' at it. We routinely visit local farms with larger animals, to learn about or just for the experience. I promise you, almost every excursion has resulted in watching something have sex. It's everywhere. I'm sure some liberal in California is trying to ban animal sex on farms. Get over it-you know those birds singing, they're ALL TRYING TO GET IT ON!
I could List for days. Its endless really, but I wouldn't change a damn thing.
Fact of the matter is- we all started as farmers somewhere, be it our great great great great great great grandmother's garden, or our grandpappy's fantastic dairy cows, the truth is that no matter where your family hails from, somebody in your family was a farmer. And I'm willing to bet that they loved it, there was a reason they carried on with it, even if it was necessity- you don't run a successful garden, dairy, or any kind of farm without a little love. Even if that love means being covered in mud and shit 24 hours a day.
Yep. Shit.
Fun Fact number 1:
If you raise livestock, chances are you will spend your days cleaning shit, eating shit, smelling like shit, being covered in shit, and probably looking like shit. Yeah, I said eating shit. I know right, totally disgusting. But I'd be lying if I told you that anytime I clean the Chicken waterer, feeder, or muck out the hen house that I don't end up with a little poop on or around my mouth. Either because the water splashes back, I inevitably inhale straw (and poop) when mucking out the hen house, or because one of those feathered jerks flies up in my face and kicks that nasty mess up at me, as if to say "HEY SLACKER- next time come around sooner..." I look like shit most days because, well, I'm working. With animals that have no idea how to poop in one respective place, but instead crap all over the place. So, shit, will become a part of your daily life. Seriously, endless pooping.
Number 2:
Trying to have nice nails is a waste of time. I've tried. Even in the winter months, I am incapable of having pretty hands or nails. I've exchanged the fake nails and pretty paint job for calloused hands, short finger nails, and muddied cracked fingers that never seem to get clean no matter how much I scrub. Sometimes you just gotta shove that girly crap aside and take care of important things. Like chicken wrangling, turning the compost, cleaning out the barn, planting crops, butchering, and lets not forget if any of the larger animals go into labor- you might just have to have your arm in the uterus of a farm animal. I am not spending 60 bucks on a manicure just to break a nail delivering a baby goat. No bueno mi amigo.
Number 3:
Not everyone approves of your farm life. This one was weird for me to grasp. I grew up in various small towns all across the country, surrounded by farmers of all sorts and even helping to run a few of them, as a child I was raised with the understanding that farmers are some of the hardest working, poorest people in the world- and they're the ones who FEED EVERYONE- and that they deserve un-quantifiable amounts of respect. As an urban farmer, I don't operate a full farm, I don't raise cows, or sheep, or pigs, or llamas. I garden my ass off and I raise chickens for my freezer and a few friends/neighbors freezers. This is largely because we don't own our own land, and also because those animals require more space than we have readily available. However, you better bet your sweet ass I still work my tail off day in and day out to make sure that those animals are taken care of and are content clean and happy before they meet their end. You also better be aware that The second the sun comes back after a long dark winter, I'm starting seeds inside, raising my electric bill about $80 plus a month from the grow lights so that my garden has as much of a headstart as possible due to our short growing season. I have friends who think I'm crazy. Some of my neighbors despise me because chickens smell, and are noisy, even my siblings, who were also in those small po-dunk towns surrounded by cows- don't understand why I do what I do. It's okay. I'll take the smell of chicken poop over city garbage any day.
Not to mention, anyone who thinks that because I raise my chickens primarily for meat thinks I'm a monster, no better than a murderer on death row. I assure you, my chickens are free range, have nice soft straw in a pretty badass coop with tons of gmo free and organic food and clean water and are so so so spoiled, especially compared to factory farms that supply your grocery store with diseased meat for you to feed your family.
Number 4:
Sometimes it just sucks. There are various reasons why farming can royally suck sometimes. This year, for example, has been one of the weirdest, rainiest summers ever. Half my crops either died or stunted or have yet to bounce back. It's already July- that means that if it's not green and huge and happy by now, it's not going to be. Alaska's average growing season is from June until August. I have 90 days of the year to produce as much food as I can for my family and the people who purchase from us. Compared to the lower 48 states, thats about 60 days LESS. So this year, no one is getting cabbage, broccoli, basil, cucumbers, zucchini, tomatoes, onions, green beans, or lettuce. It actually rained so much that my lettuce DROWNED. I was unaware that lettuce could drown, I mean, it's one of the most water resilient plants out there. So this year all I've got offer in the way of fresh produce are beets, carrots, and snap peas.
We decided we were gonna try and raise pheasants this year along with the chickens, add some variety to the freezer for the winter months. Turns out, the asshole chickens we picked up this year, didn't like the pheasants. Over a span of 3 weeks, we lost every single pheasant we had to the murderous bitches in the hen house. Thats like watching someone light your wallet with all your hard earned and saved cash in it on fire and laughing mercilessly at you.
Sometimes, being a farmer, urban, backwoods, or whatever... just sucks.
Number 5:
Vacation? What the hell is that?
Yep. Vacation plans mean squat when you're a farmer. As in, you just plain ol' don't get one. Truth be told I have wanted many vacations, but fate has a way of destroying a farmers vacation plans faster than a hurricane destroys a town. I can't tell you how many times we've just gone away for a night or two on a weekend only to come home to a coop of dead birds, drowned or burnt up garden, or to find that every. single. chicken. has escaped and some of the neighbors dogs have found new chew toys.
If there are chickens- we stay home. If there is a garden- we stay home. If there is a snow storm, or expected 90 degree days (yes, they happen here too, it's called global warming.) we stay home. We are tired. and dirty. and usually somewhat smelly. all year. But I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Number 6:
You never have to have to talk about "The Birds and the Bees," with your children.
This is true. And convenient. My 3 year old already understands where baby chicks come from, because our rooster is the biggest horn dog, and most animals don't give a damn if you watch them goin' at it. We routinely visit local farms with larger animals, to learn about or just for the experience. I promise you, almost every excursion has resulted in watching something have sex. It's everywhere. I'm sure some liberal in California is trying to ban animal sex on farms. Get over it-you know those birds singing, they're ALL TRYING TO GET IT ON!
I could List for days. Its endless really, but I wouldn't change a damn thing.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
We Begin
This is the story of My Family.
My husband and I, and our Wild-as-the-Alaskan-Hills 3 year old, accompanied by two goofy pups and whatever other critters we bring home.
We are sort of new-agey hippies, we love the outdoors and hunting and fishing and energy and vibrancy and holistic-natural-medicine, and foraging and bright new experiences with people who vibrate on the same levels that we do.We eat organic, we garden organic, we strive for sustainability in one of the most harsh climates in the country, and one day maybe we will finally reach our dreams of living on the land.
So Welcome, to the insides of my brain, my World, which I must warn you is kind of weird and a bit chaotic at times, but hopefully you can learn a thing or two or maybe just be entertained for the time it takes to read what I have to offer.
Some things you might find me discussing on here:
*permaculture
*organic gardening
*my disgust for corporate control of food (Monsanto, I'm watching you, you dirtbag)
*recipes for healthy family foods, including sneaky ways I get my picky family to eat those hated vegetables
*urban farming
*dog antics
*frustration over dog antics and urban farming
*knitting, crafting, artsy fartsy stuff
*recycling repurposing other people's junk
*Alaska, and how crazy it is living here sometimes
*adventures
*hunting and fishing
*sustainable living
*green living
*yoga
*random weird thought processes I may have.
Love and light...
My husband and I, and our Wild-as-the-Alaskan-Hills 3 year old, accompanied by two goofy pups and whatever other critters we bring home.
We are sort of new-agey hippies, we love the outdoors and hunting and fishing and energy and vibrancy and holistic-natural-medicine, and foraging and bright new experiences with people who vibrate on the same levels that we do.We eat organic, we garden organic, we strive for sustainability in one of the most harsh climates in the country, and one day maybe we will finally reach our dreams of living on the land.
So Welcome, to the insides of my brain, my World, which I must warn you is kind of weird and a bit chaotic at times, but hopefully you can learn a thing or two or maybe just be entertained for the time it takes to read what I have to offer.
Some things you might find me discussing on here:
*permaculture
*organic gardening
*my disgust for corporate control of food (Monsanto, I'm watching you, you dirtbag)
*recipes for healthy family foods, including sneaky ways I get my picky family to eat those hated vegetables
*urban farming
*dog antics
*frustration over dog antics and urban farming
*knitting, crafting, artsy fartsy stuff
*recycling repurposing other people's junk
*Alaska, and how crazy it is living here sometimes
*adventures
*hunting and fishing
*sustainable living
*green living
*yoga
*random weird thought processes I may have.
Love and light...
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